


Mysterious Familiarity

by kenporusty



Category: Jekyll (TV), The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenporusty/pseuds/kenporusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happened at the base of the Carrock. Enjoying a moment of peace, coming down from the adrenaline high of the fight and subsequent rescue, the Dwarves and solitary Hobbit arrayed themselves in groups or singularly, taken to washing stinking and stick clothing, and scrubbing clean skin, or simply lying on the rocks, sleeping in the warm air and the waning sun. Everyone’s spirits had been invigorated by the glimpse of Erebor, and the knowledge their King in abeyance survived the fight.</p>
<p>From here on in, strangers continue to appear, and it's up to the Dwarves and the newcomers to work out what do with each other, and just how to get back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mysterious Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

> There is language confusion in here.  
> Khuzdul/Westron and English are not mutually intelligible in this world, so someone will eventually come along to help straighten things out.
> 
> For now, things said in the languages of Middle Earth will be in italics, and things said in English will be non-italicized.

It happened at the base of the Carrock. Enjoying a moment of peace, coming down from the adrenaline high of the fight and subsequent rescue, the Dwarves and solitary Hobbit arrayed themselves in groups or singularly, taken to washing stinking and stick clothing, and scrubbing clean skin, or simply lying on the rocks, sleeping in the warm air and the waning sun. Everyone’s spirits had been invigorated by the glimpse of Erebor, and the knowledge their King in abeyance survived the fight.

Fíli and Kíli sat, foreheads pressed together, sharing a private joke, or intimate conversation. No one dared to encroach to find out which. Oin tended to Thorin, and Dwalin sat on a high rock by the river, standing guard, ever faithful. Bofur scrubbed the goblin filth from his jacket, whistling tune he heard somewhere in a tavern. 

“So what’s all this, daddy?” A strange voice with an even stranger accent drifted through the clearing, the sound of shoes crunching gravel echoing off the rocks. “We’re not in England anymore, are we, daddy?” 

Bofur turned to look at the strange man with short, curly black hair, and an oddly familiar face. Bombur and Bifur stared harder, looking between the newcomer and their brother and cousin. The man was not dressed like a dwarf, or like the men had had seen in their journeys. He dressed more as a very tall Hobbit, with full-length trousers, a simple white shirt, open jacket, and open waistcoat. He turned, his shined shoes crunching and scraping more as he took in the assembled Company. 

“There are no stage lights, no green screens, no cameras, and no sign of a director, so I’m not on a film set, and yet here I am, surrounded by these strange,” the man grinned and tilted his head slightly to the left. “Characters.” 

_“Who is that, and what is he saying?”_ Thorin demanded, pulling his scrubbed, but still torn shirt over his head, standing up, much to the protests of both Oin and Dwalin. 

Hyde turned to face Thorin, “I have no idea what you’re saying, lad.” He chuckled and shook his head, “Pity. Though it makes things more interesting, wouldn’t you say?” 

The sound of several swords and axes being drawn, and an arrow notched is very distinctive, and drew Hyde’s attention. 

_“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”_ Thorin demanded again, in Westron. _“Tell me now; I am the rightful King of Erebor, and the leader of this company. If you come to us with ill will and a threat, we will not hesitate.”_ He nodded neigh imperceptivity, and Kíli drew back the arrow, aiming for Hyde’s chest. 

“I already told you, I do not know what you’re saying.” Hyde simply shrugged. 

And quickly sidestepped the arrow, which buried itself in a tree far behind where he was standing. 

“Now if we’ve got the aggression out of the way, I think I should just sit here on this rock, and wait for whatever got me here to get me out,” Hyde moved slowly to sit where Bofur had previously been singing. 

The Dwarf now watched the man stumble to sit down, drawing his legs up, and putting his forehead on his knees. Hyde fumbled for the silver recorder and said something angrily into it before jamming it back into a pocket and falling limp. Within the space of a blink, the man looked different. His hair receded more, had more silver laced within the black, and he looked heavier, more tired. Despite the change, he did not move. Fíli looked at Thorin, who put down Orcrist, followed by the re-sheathing of the few weapons that remained from the rest of the company. Even Bilbo put away his tiny blade. 

_“What do we do now?”_ Bilbo asked, looking at Thorin. He frowned and watched the human sit in a heap on the stone. 

Blue eyes flicked around the gathered group in various states of dress, assessing the daylight they had left, and the state of the company. 

_“Build fires, we camp here tonight. Dwalin, keep an eye on our guest. If he makes a move towards us, you have my permission to let your axe find its mark,”_ Thorin nodded at the warrior. _“Fíli, Kíli, go fetch firewood, and get these fires started. I want one close to the man. Just because he may be an enemy does not give us the right to be barbarians.”_

Thorin turned away, barking orders for Bombur and Bofur to begin supper as soon as the fires were burning, Oin to tend to the others, Bilbo and Ori to mend some of the torn clothing, and Balin to take stock of remaining supplies. With the scrape of gravel, the brother princes took off into the wood, chattering and laughing together. Dwalin took up a position to the left of the human, and Ori dropped a heavy blanket around his shoulders as he passed to collect the torn clothing with Bilbo. Balin collected the meager supplies that survived, barely anything, and barely enough food to make it through the forest, much less to Erebor. He said as much to Thorin, who put Nori and Dori to work fishing in the streams that flowed around the Carrock. Fíli and Kíli returned loaded with firewood. Together the brothers made three fires; one claimed for cooking, the other two quickly crowded around by chilled Dwarves and a Hobbit. Under Thorin’s stern watch, and the fading light, they set to their tasks. Those who had nothing to do gathered the few weapons, cleaned, and sharpened them as needed. Dwalin kept an eye on the man, tensing as he moved with a loud groan, stretching out on the rock, feet towards the warmth of the fire. He waved Balin over and together they lowered him to the gravel, laying him out on a spare bedroll, recovering him. 

Thorin was right. He may be a stranger who turned up suddenly, but that was no reason to be rude. 

Dwalin was relieved just after midnight by Fíli, who took up watch over the sleeping pile of man, now curled on himself, facing the fire. He kept a hand on the hilt of his sword, sitting on the rock, head turned, staring into the dark, but keeping alert to for any sounds. He watched his brother as he slept fitfully, undoubtedly haunted by the recent terrors. He frowned and wished to comfort his brother, but his uncle had commanded he take watch, and he did not wish to disobey, especially when tensions ran so high. His uncle. Thorin was still sitting with Balin and Gandalf, who had rejoined them sometime during the night, talking and planning their further route. Fíli turned to look where the long dark mane was bent over a map, straining his eyes in the firelight. In that moment, Thorin resembled the Dwarves of the old stories: brave, but still flawed and prone to weakness. 

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back on the rock and stared at the stars, keeping his ears alert for any sounds from the man. He only stretched and righted himself as the sky lightened with a still unseen sunrise. 

“What the hell? Hyde, where did you leave me now?” Dr. Jackman groaned, fumbling for the small recorder, and pushing himself to his knees. He looked around at the dying fire and the motley assortment of Dwarves and one Hobbit, all staring at him expectantly. 

“Shit.” Jackman ran a hand through his thinned hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo.....canon divergence. Yeah. Both in Hobbit and Jekyll. Ideally in Jekyll, this takes place before the events of the show.
> 
> This was spawned after a chat with a good friend, and kind of snowballed.
> 
> Sorry this first chapter is so short, I promise the rest will be longer!
> 
> Forgive me for any mistakes, I had no beta.


End file.
